Catnip
by Swordage
Summary: Diverges from the first anime at episode 7. A response to the cutesy cat chimera fics. A look at the results of human transmutation. Ed learns to face the rest of his life.
1. Chapter 1

Roy stood in the pet store, staring blankly at the cat care section. Cats were not his thing. Dogs, yes, loyal and brave and always obedient, but cats? Cats, with their attitude and sunbeam-naps and sneers when you called them? Roy had no particular love for cats. That, and he was slightly allergic.

"Excuse me, sir? Can I help you?" A pretty young clerk had crept up on him, and he smiled at her. Brilliant: make someone else take care of the details.

"I seem to have come into possession of a cat," he said with gracious humor. "Could you assist me in finding the necessary supplies?"

"Oh, certainly!" Her blush was rather endearing. "Is it a very large cat, or a kitten, or...?"

"It makes a difference?" He blinked uncertainly. Cats were cats, were they not?

"Oh, yes. You want to give it the proper size bed, litter box, and collar, and you'll want to match the food type to its age and general health." She looked so innocent for someone who had just doomed him to carry many large shopping bags.

"It's a large cat, but thin. I don't think it's done growing either." He sighed, long-suffering. "For such a young scrawny thing, it takes up an awful amount of space."

"Oh, in that case, you'll want one of these, and these..." The now annoyingly perky young clerk began to pull obscene amounts of merchandise off the shelves.

Roy stared at the increasing pile of goods and weakly suggested, "Perhaps a cart is in order?"

"Oh, certainly, sir! I'll get one of the beds down while I'm at it." He watched her go, then looked over his shoulder at a fish.

"I know," he told it. "I'm nuts for going along with this, but you haven't seen Alphonse angry."

One hour and a high-piled cart later, he called the office and had Havoc come pick him up. Damned if he was going to carry all this back, one block or not. He could deal with the amused twitch of a cigarette.

Luckily, Havoc said not a word, just helped him get all the bags into the car. He didn't so much as snicker when one bag in particular jingled loudly through the entire ride, and he even helped bring it all up to Roy's quarters. He didn't question when he was dismissed before Roy even unlocked the door, either. There was definitely something to be said for canines, Roy decided yet again. Loyalty and dedication and obedience and-

"Whaz 'at shit?" a familiar voice growled the moment he opened the door. "C'n hear y' fr'm th' moon."

"You come up with the strangest sayings," he muttered to himself while trying to both hold the door open and shove the bags inside. It involved a great deal of shuffling and cursing, he found.

"C'mon, show me." That was almost unslurred, and he blinked at his companion.

"You've been practicing." It wasn't unexpected, but it somehow startled him anyhow. The golden-furred body on his (previously artfully arranged) endtable growled warningly, tail a steady thump against the mahogany.

"Dun' care 'bout that," it muttered sullenly. "Smell funny. Whazit?"

Roy sighed and began sorting the contents of the bags. "Kibble, scratching post, bed, feathers on a stick, hidey hole-cum-scratching post, treats, several books, clay and a litter box, dishes, a collar," he ignored the scratchy growl after that, "and an insane number of jingly plastic things."

The tawny creature jumped from its perch to pad over and inspect the goods, its oddly-thumbed paws clicking on the floor in an off-tempo staccato. Roy eyed it cautiously, knowing exactly how much damage those claws could inflict on his legs if he didn't watch carefully.

"Dun' smell right. Store an' an'mals an' sumthin'." Yellow eyes regarded him warily, lithe body crouched down, ready to spring in any direction if surprised. "Whazit?"

"Um. Honestly, I haven't the slightest," he admitted, shuffling through the bags again. "Oh - I almost forgot this." He offered the small pouch of herbs for inspection, and nearly gasped when it was snatched from his hand.

"Tha'! Thassit. Go 'way." The last was slightly muffled as the pouch was shifted from hand-like paws to the blunt muzzle so the creature could retreat to Roy's bedroom with its prize. Roy sighed heavily. He was never going to get the fur off his blankets at this rate.

He began finding places for the other things, sending up a small prayer that the cat-bed would actually be slept in, and thus was entirely unprepared for the golden torpedo that nearly took out his kitchen table.

"Looklooklooklook!" it demanded, skidding to a halt in front of him, eyes wide and a bit crazed. "Fasngoodanyermumsahore!"

"I have no idea what you just said," Roy replied with more than a bit of awe. He danced back when it lunged playfully for his legs, though, and was not pleased by the rapid hiccough he thought might be laughter. He was even more displeased when five claws caught his pantleg, and automatically brought that foot forward to catch the creature. It bounced back, out of range, and bared blunt little fangs. He threw the feather-stick at it, and it pounced on the feathers with a delighted shriek he was sure his neighbors would not appreciate.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, but there was no answer other than contented snarls as it wrestled the inanimate toy with great gusto. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The thing had been sullen but calm (excepting a few violent incidents) since Roy had first seen it a week ago, and had been remarkably quiet since moving in with Roy yesterday. When it finally wound down, sparing only a lazy swipe at the defeated feathers every now and then, he tentatively approached.

"What got into you?" he asked wonderingly, eyeing the lazy sprawl of limbs and the slow swipe of its tail. "And answer me this time."

"Smell goo'," was the slurred reply, yellow eyes slitting happily. "Happy."

"There's feathers all over my kitchen," Roy observed.

"Ded," was the pleased reply. "Kill dead."

"It was already- Oh, never mind." Roy bent over to start picking up the half-eaten feathers everywhere, and carefully tugged one from underneath the creature. It didn't attack his hand, though, so he gently lifted a leg and tugged a garishly-dyed feather from under its chest. The limb was much harder than he expected, and he idly wondered if it had any muscles in its legs, or if it was just tendons anchored higher. This led to an absent examination of the paw, which only vaguely resembled a true cat paw. It was much larger, for one, with only the slightest webbing between toes. Most important was the thumbs - set a little higher than on a human hand, but definitely thumbs, able to curl across the heavy mat of the paw. A gentle squeeze unsheathed the claws, and he couldn't help testing the point of one. Scientific inquiry, after all.

"Sto' m'lesting my han'," it finally slurred, not sounding the least bit concerned. He dropped the limb in question guiltily and hurried to continue gathering the scattered feathers. They had truly gotten everywhere, and he was sure he looked quite the fool, fishing under the oven. If they caught fire, he'd be the one to pay the expenses, though. He vowed to never again buy anything feathered, and thought uneasily of the jingling toys that were probably going to end up underfoot in the middle of the night.

"You never said how he got hold of a cat," Roy finally said, surprising himself by speaking at all. The creature stretched slightly, and out of the corner of his eye he saw it examining its own paw, playing with the stretch of the toes and flexing the thumb.

"Was a stray. Nina fed it," it muttered finally, picking a bit of feather from between its teeth. "Was raining, an' brought it inside. Thin. Hungry."

"What happened?" Roy tried to make his voice gentle, less of an intrusion than a prompt. He still hadn't heard the story, just took this sad creature in without a word of question.

"Tucker. Din' wanna fail evalu... eva... eval'shun. Slept over, kept Nina company. Woke up in night, wasn' thinking right. Went with Tucker." It was the most Roy had heard it speak at one time, and he didn't push for more, just went to sit on the floor next to it.

"When I was researching chimeras," he murmured with the air of one remembering a long way back, "I wondered about human-animal chimeras. Did they retain human intelligence? Did they simply gain more, become something greater? Or would the combination be inexact, would the parts not mesh into a whole? I finally decided it wasn't something I was ready to consider. I went on to gases."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, and then the tawny body pulled itself up and sat properly.

"Bring me to work," it said, and its glare brooked no opposition. Roy avoided its gaze, staring blankly at the window instead.

"That would not be wise," he finally replied, letting a hint of official disapproval into his tone.

"Can't find Stone stuck here," Edward growled, and Roy finally noticed that his nails were digging painfully into his palms.

"Alphonse still freezes up whenever he sees you," he reminded Ed, examining the blood welling up in crescents on both hands.

"I can ride on him," Ed said stubbornly. "He has cats in him alla time. Can still draw array." He held up a paw and flexed the thumb in demonstration.

"That's not the point." Roy shook his head. "You're not human. You can't-"

"I can!" Ed sprang onto Roy's shoulders and bit his ear ferociously, ignoring the startled yell. "Can still do it! Can talk, can draw, can fix! Can fix!"

Roy reached up and grabbed Ed around the middle, awkwardly hauling the cat-shape off his shoulders and holding it out at arm's length. They glared at each other, and then Roy gave in. He pulled the small shape against his chest, ignoring when Ed froze at the sudden intimacy. Smoothing the velvety ears was the next natural step, and the closest thing he could manage to a hug.

"You're not alright," he murmured against the fur of Ed's back. "You can't fix this."

"Can fix Al," it growled, but it lacked true anger, off-balance from the embrace. "Can do that. Shu'up."

"Bringing you to the office won't help. It'll just remind you of what you've lost. You?re not ready." It's a perfectly rational explanation, and Roy wished it were the reason behind his own reluctance.

"Need to know," Ed said sullenly. "No one will notice a cat."

Roy carefully set Ed on the floor and went to wash his face before the dander made his eyes water. "No, no one will notice a cat. If you can convince Al to hide you, and if you can stay around Hawkeye or myself the entire time, you can come."

"Thanks, Dad," was the amused and sarcastic reply. Roy twitched and tossed a handful of water at Ed, who screeched outrage and attacked his legs.

"Damnit, Ed, cats run away when you toss water at them!" he yelled while trying to fend Ed's claws off with the sole of his boot.

"Who're you callin' a flea-bitten hairball, huh?" Ed demanded, and Roy doubled over in helpless laughter as his pantlegs were shredded beyond repair. Nothing had really changed after all, when it came down to it.


	2. Chapter 2

It went as expected, really. Roy had allowed for everything shy of catnip, from drape-climbing to pant-shredding to being ignored entirely. He had even made plans for the eventual attempts at petting. This was not in his plans.

"Aren't you allergic to cats?" Breda was asking.

"He has funny feet," Havoc was muttering.

"It's going to kill Havoc," Farman was observing.

"Hawkeye's not gonna like it," Fury was whimpering.

"Be quiet," said Hawkeye (who had been there unobserved for five minutes), and they were.

"I am only slightly allergic, he does have funny feet, he will kill Havoc if Havoc keeps attempting to poke him, and Hawkeye does not like it." Roy glared at them all and rubbed his temple. "I am going to go sign things without reading them. I am not responsible for any damage he causes."

The creature in question regarded them all with contempt and went to curl up on Hawkeye's desk, turning around five times before settling in the sunbeam that landed exactly on the "incoming" stack of paper.

"...Or I'll move the cat," Roy sighed, and went to get the thick elbow-length gloves he had brought for exactly this purpose. Said cat eyed him and the gloves and leapt off the desk with the most possible scattering of paperwork.

"This is why I didn't want to bring you," Roy declared, planting his hands on his hips with the full knowledge that he looked like an idiot. "Now behave."

An hour later he greatly regretted those words, as having someone staring at him while he attempted to actually fill out paperwork was more than a little distracting. He finally gave up and stared back until slit eyes blinked with lazy deliberateness, as if to say their owner was above such games.

"Why are you in my office?" Roy sighed, dropping his head onto the papers carpeting his desk. "I thought I left you with them."

"They wen' out to lunch," Ed grumbled, tailtip flicking slowly. Roy knew enough know to recognize it as a sign of annoyance, and he carefully fingered the elbow-length gloves under his desk.

"And this is an answer to my question how?" Roy politely ignored the dramatic eye-roll and disinterested paw-lick. It didn't do to inform one's companion that they were being a teenager.

"Y'said to stay wi' you or Hawkeye," he finally muttered sullenly, letting it slur together into near incomprehensibility. Roy made a curious noise that could best be described as a disbelieving choke.

"You actually listened when I said that?" Roy was probably more surprised than he should be, and the tightly controlled spams of Ed's tailtip confirmed that.

"...'S easier this way," he mumbled, ducking his head and examining his claws. "Just a cat. Heard people talkin' ?bout stuff."

Roy was serious immediately, leaning forward to catch his attention. "What were they talking about?" he demanded, and Ed growled at him.

"Nuthin'. ...'Bout me." It was said reluctantly, and Roy sat back and rubbed his temples. Just what he needed; people wondering where the Fullmetal Alchemist had gotten to. He was startled out of his reverie when Ed jumped onto his desk and prodded him with unsheathed claws.

"Ow," Roy said eloquently, and Ed grabbed his hand before he could push the chimera off his desk.

"Lissen," Ed hissed, and Roy arched an eyebrow.

"You have just clawed me for no apparent reason," Roy informed him. "There will be a punishment. Therefore, I am going to get the water bottle and- What on earth are you doing with my pen?"

Ed ignored him and carefully wrote all over the very important papers Roy had to sign in triplicate. He hit himself in the face with the pen five times before he finished, and then he finally gave in to his impulses and disemboweled the pen with great vigor. Roy ignored him in favor of deciphering the scrawling text.

_"Secret reconnaissance of Risembool,"_ it read. _"Review Colonel and subordinates private behavior. New anti-tap system on phones - not safe. Private codes studied."_

Roy shoved the papers into the waste bin and set them on fire. He grabbed Ed by the scruff of his neck and held him at eye level.

"Bad kitty," he said very clearly, and opened his door and kicked Ed out. There was enraged scratching for several minutes, and he was sure the refinishing costs of the door would be extensive, but it was worth it.

Now if only he could teach Ed not to write it down. Cats made lovely spies, and he wondered why he ever hated them.


	3. Chapter 3

The knock at the door was unexpected and thus unwelcome. Not to mention it was shortly after midnight; Ed was sure nothing good could come of this. The knock sounded again, sharp and brisk, and he ran for the bedroom.

"Colonel!" he hissed, leaping onto the nightstand. "Wake up, wake up!" When a mumbled something was the only response, he lept onto Roy's chest and very deliberately dug in his claws. Roy woke with a pained gasp, reaching to shove Ed off. Ed bit him.

"What the hell-" Roy began, and Ed snarled.

"Military at the door," he snapped. "Get the fuck up."

Roy instantly rolled out of bed, grabbing yesterday's clothes and pulling them on as he hurried toward the door.

"Idiot," Ed growled, "they've come to take you away, who the fuck pays a courtesy call at midnight?"

"They'll have the building surrounded," Roy said lowly. "Shut up, now." With that he stopped by the door, sleepily asking who was making such a racket at this hour. The reponse was hardly an answer.

"Who were you talking to?" a pleasant young man asked through the door. It sounded like it might be that Archer guy, the one that nearly got Ed kicked out of the office a week ago on some technicality about allergens. "There's no one in there but the cat, am I correct?"

"I'm sure you'd know," Roy said heavily. "What do you want?"

"For you to come along quietly, of course. The neighbors are starting to pay attention. Shall we?"

Roy leaned his head against the door, and Ed took the occasion to yowl plaintively. He heard several safeties click on the other side of the door. Very not good. Roy looked over at him, his face carefully blank.

"Go," he mouthed. "Get out of here. Go to Al."

Ed dug his claws into the carpet, uncertain. Roy was as good as dead, they both knew it; it was just a matter of whether they'd kill him now or later. As if to reinforce that, the voice spoke again.

"I would not appreciate any resistance, Mustang. Unless you are on this side of the door in the next ten seconds, I will have to take you into custody by force. I'm sure neither of us want that."

"Go," Roy mouthed again. Ed went.

oOoOoOo

"Spot?" Hawkeye asked sleepily. Oh, how Ed hated that name. "What are you doing here? I bet Colonel Mustang is wondering where you are."

Ed stood thoughtfully on her windowsill, digging his claws in for balance against the shifting wind. It was nearly dawn now; he was rapidly running out of time. Well, not much choice then. He let her lift him into the room, hissing as the cut on his side pulled - a bullet had grazed him as he ran.

"There's no time to explain," he told her, trying not to look at her expression as Roy's fluffy kitty Spot suddenly spoke. "They've got Roy, and they're going to quietly execute him. We need to get him back."

"What-" she began, then caught herself. "Who has him?"

"The fucking military, who else?" Ed said sharply. "Someone must have grown a brain to figure it out - I was supposed to be put down with the rest of Tucker's experiments, after all, anyone with his file would recognize me, and he's gotten a lot of attention since he rose from the dead and ran off -"

"Edward?" she said sharply. "Well, that certainly explains a good deal. Tell me what happened tonight, and who's known about you."

oOoOoOo

"Ed," Al said thinly, "I don't think that's the best idea."

"I don't hear any better ones!" Ed yowled. He paced rapidly along Hawkeye's desk, jumping down to curl under the table for half a minute before leaping up again. "None of his people are going to be able to get in to him, that's obvious enough, that's what they build fucking prisons for, but I can get in where humans can't."

"Ed," Al started, sounding hurt. Ed cut him off sharply with a tailflick.

"All I need to know is where they're holding him. He's probably still alive, since they're talking about his case on the radio - there's no doubt what the outcome will be, but he'll be a public example of who knows what. And if he's alive, they have to be keeping him somewhere." Ed lept onto the table, snatching a shortened pencil Hawkeye had cut down for him. Quickly sketching out a rough map, he jabbed a spot with the pencil. "There. They'll most likely be keeping him there - it's a lab supposed to be out of use, but I saw it on one of Hakuro's files once. Don't give me that look, Al, I was spying on him. I can sneak in and pick the locks -"

"And how would you get him out again?" Havoc said sharply. "Think for a minute, would you? He's gonna be under guard, how will you pick the locks right under their noses?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Ed screamed, throwing the pencil down. "I don't fucking know!" He stood there rigidly, tail lashing angrily, fighting back the need to keep screaming. His side shuddered, spasmed with half-forgotten pain.

"Brother," Al said softly, "come here. Before we do anything, you need to be taken care of. You're still bleeding."

Silent, Ed slowly stepped over to Al, allowing himself to be picked up and carried to the bathroom. Al tended to him carefully, washing the blood from his matted fur. They said nothing, even when his wound had been cleaned and bandaged and they simply sat there together on the edge of the tub. Al hadn't called him 'brother' since he'd been made a chimera. There was nothing to say. Slowly, curled up on his younger brother's lap between huge leather hands, Ed fell asleep.

"I have a transmitter small enough," Fury was saying when Ed woke up. "Hayate's collar is too big, but-"

"I can get one," Al offered. "Some of the strays still have theirs. No tags, but..."

"That's perfect," Havoc said, sounding pleased.

"What's perfect?" Ed grumbled groggily. "Whose transmitter ran away?"

"What?" Fury asked.

"Don't mind Brother," Al said, sounding like he wanted to laugh. "He's always like this when he wakes up."

Ed yawned and stretched, blinking slowly. Taking stock of the situation, he found Roy's entire staff crammed into Hawkeye's apartment; the light creeping around the closed blinds made him think it was midday already. His bed shifted slightly, and he realised he'd been curled in the bowl of Al's cupped hands. Unthinking, he swiped his tongue over a leather thumb in thanks, turning his attention to cleaning his face next. The little noise Al made that could have been a hitched breath gave him pause; he carefully stopped his cleaning and turned his attention to the others once more.

"Alright, I'm awake," he muttered. "What's the plan now?"

"Good morning, boss," Havoc chuckled. "You're right, he's in the Fifth Lab - Fury overheard summat while fixing some faulty wiring in the communications center -"

"Imagine that," Hawkeye murmured.

"- and the plan is to send you in alone as a stray cat. You'll have a transmitter in your collar - when you're ready, you'll hit it and we'll extract you and the Colonel. That's the basics." Havoc settled back, unlit cigarette bobbing between his lips. Breda edged away from Black Hayate, who was interested in something Breda had stepped in. Ed eyed the dog archly - stupid mutt knew enough to stay away from HIM, at least.

"So basically," Ed said, "my plan is go."

"Basically," Havoc agreed with a grin. "We need a way to fix up that cut of yours, though, because you're supposed to be stray-"

"I can," Al said quietly, shifting Ed so he could reach for a pencil. They all watched, baffled, as he sketched out an array and carefully set Ed on it. It was all Ed could do to stay put; he trusted Al, but the last array he'd been used in had not been pleasant.

A moment later, a flash of light danced along the cut on his side, and it was pink and healed in its wake. Ed lept back onto Al's lap, curling his tail around him to hide how he was shaking. Evenly, he said, "So that's set. What next?"

"Next, you need a collar. Al, can you get that while we iron out the extraction?" Havoc nodded to Al, who nodded back and stood, putting Ed in the indent where he'd been sitting.

"I'll be a few minutes," Al added. "I'll pick up a few things so they don't suspect anything."

It clicked in Ed's head as the door clicked shut. Of course they were being watched; they were gathered together shortly after their superior had been taken into custody. It would be assumed they were plotting his escape, which of course they were.

"Hawkeye, you and I will be point," Havoc was saying. "Fury and Breda to the flanks, Farman to the rear. We want this to be fast and clean, and we want to get out a different way than we came in - Al, you'll hold down our exit. Best case, we get Ed to disable some folks for us."

"How?" Breda pointed out.

"If we're willing to carry him and Roy unconscious, we can give him a gas canister to knock out everyone in the immediate area," Fury offered.

"Aren't those a bit big?" Breda said doubtfully. "How'd he carry it?"

"Clearly not in my collar," Ed said dryly. "Leave it to me. I'll figure it out."

"Transmitter and gas canister," Fury murmured, clearly making a list. "Internal communications, or are we blackout?"

"No transmitters," Farman said firmly. "Too risky. If we're far apart enough to need them, we're dead anyway."

"What's the radius on the gas?" Ed interrupted. "And the timer."

"Takes effect within ten to thirty seconds, best effect in a closed area. In a ventilated ten-by-ten room, lasts several hours," Fury rattled off. "Take a deep breath and hold it before initiating the release, and don't forget to trigger the transmitter. It'll be our signal to get in and get you out, and also the homing beacon."

"Got it," Ed grinned fiercely. "The bastard Colonel had better appreciate this. No more dry kibble, I want steak every day."

The looks they gave him were priceless.

oOoOoOo

"Hey, Biggs. Think the boss was serious when he said to shoot anything that moves?"

"Yeah, why?"

"There's a cat what got in here. Here, kitty kitty."

"You idiot. It's not gonna come over."

"Sure it is. Cats like me. C'mere kitty. I won't let the big bad monsters eat you."

Ed crept cautiously closer, not entirely sure he trusted the Biggs fellow. He hadn't unslung his gun to make good on their orders, but that didn't mean much.

"You're an idiot, Wedge." Biggs shook his head and turned his attention back to the security screens. Ed tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, rewarding the dumbass by creeping closer, sniffing at them. They smelled rank.

"See, it likes me. C'mon, kitty kitty. Hey, it's got a collar. Ratty looking thing, though. Bet it's been stray for a while." Wedge had crouched down, hand outstretched and beckoning. Ed crept closer, watching the screens shift out of the corner of his eye. Empty room after empty room flickered by, until one landed on a room with guards. Then a room with an occupied cell. Then a whole hallway of occupied cells. Ed purred thoatily, creeping close enough to pretend to sniff the idiot's hand, leaping back when he moved to pet him. Now he had a plan.

oOoOoOo

"Go!" Ed snarled over the warning klaxons, flattening his ears against his skull and leaping down from the control pad. "Get the fuck out of here already!"

The chimeras seemed to take a collective breath, and then they were free. A human hand scooped him up and he twisted to bite, only to find himself caught by the scruff of his neck.

"Easy there, kit," the man laughed. "Tell us where you're going and we'll help you get there. It's the least we can do."

"To Roy," Ed said unthinkingly. "You're my distraction. We need to get away from here."

"East," a lithe woman told him, already moving. "The labs are that way, deeper in. The rest will be headed west, up and out."

"Let's go," Ed said, shaking the man that smelled of dog off his neck.

oOoOoOo

"What the-" started the guard, gasping brokenly through his abruptly crushed windpipe. Dorochet disarmed him, not even glancing up to make sure Martel had taken the other one. Ed darted between their legs, leaping up to inspect the lock on the cell.

"Buy me three minutes," he said sharply, already digging his claws into the keyhole. The other chimeras took up guard at the shattered door, communicating wordlessly. Ed tried to avoid looking inside the cell. Roy was in bad shape, unconscious and hardly breathing. Every inhale rattled badly, every exhale took too long. "Martel. There's a button on my collar. Can you push it?"

"What does it do?" she asked, already beside him and rotating the strap around his neck, searching with her fingertips.

"Gets us the fuck out of here," he said shortly. "They'll follow the beacon in. Try not to kill anyone that isn't in a uniform."

"Gotcha," she murmured, pressing the button with a small click. It almost covered the click of the cell door; Ed nearly fell on his face as it swung open, its support failing the slumped body he'd used as a stool.

"Roy!" he called, already bounding in. "Get the fuck up, Roy, it's easier if you're awake and you better not die after all this, you asshole."

A small noise answered him, one puffed eye cracking open and vaguely scanning the room.

"Yeah, it's me, don't bother trying to talk. We're getting you out whether you like it or not. And then we're gonna hide, alright? We are gonna hide like you would not believe. After we run the fuck away." Ed was babbling and he knew it, jumping up to crouch by Roy's face. "Don't ask me where we're all gonna hide, because oh man are we all fucked, but I'm sure you can think of something. Weren't you telling me about something yesterday, oh jeez was that really yesterday it feels like forever, something about refugees from some desert? I hate deserts, but that's the general idea, that whole disappearing thing-"

"Incoming," Dorochet said softly, and Ed cut himself off. Dorochet held a hand up, fingers splayed: five. Ed frowned. His people would be five, but that was no guarantee.

"No gas," Fury's unmistakable voice said bemusedly. "Why would he-"

"Because I didn't need to," Ed called. "Get in here and let me know you're who you should be, and which way is out."

oOoOoOo

"Brother," Al asked softly as they bounced along in the back of the cattle wagon, hidden from veiw by wooden slats and hay, "what did you do with the gas canister?"

"Oh yeah," he murmured absently, sniffing Roy's hand for the eleventh time just to make sure he was really there, "It's under my right arm." Sitting back on his haunches, he began to pick carefully with his claws at the even stitches that held it just under his skin.

"That's-" Al started, sounding sick, but then he caught himself. "...Here, at least let me heal it after."

"No complaints here," Ed muttered, distracted. "It stings like a bitch."

"Hey, kids," Havoc mumbled sleepily. "Let a guy rest, wouldja? It's been a long day, and it'll be a while before we get anywheres."

Ed severed the last stitch and winced, gently easing the canister from under his skin. Holding up the bloodied tube, he asked, "We need this?"

"Can't hurt," Fury offered, rubbing his eyes. "You're not tired, are you."

"Exhausted," Ed admitted, rolling the tube in the hay to clean it. "I usually sleep a good part of the day. But there's things that need to be done first."

"Like what?" Al asked, sketching an array on the floor of the cart, careful of the bumps in the road.

"Like... um... Saying thank you to everyone." Ed glanced away from Havoc's raised eyebrow, finding himself looking at Roy instead. "I know you probably would have done something anyway, but..."

"Edward." Hawkeye reached over, gently resting her hand on his head. He flinched slightly, still watching Roy breathe. "Go to sleep."

"...Okay," he mumbled, and curled up between Roy and Al, pointedly ignoring the relieved sighs from all around.

oOoOoOo

"I don't care if my rib is cracked," Roy declared irritably. "I am tired of lying in bed-"

"Shut up!" Ed cried, flattening his ears to his head and sitting back so he could but his hands over them as well. "Grow up, old man! I could care less if you got up and killed yourself, but Hawkeye would have my skin!"

"And how is sitting on me going to help my rib?" Roy demanded, prodding Ed's unprotected stomach. He tumbled backward with a yelp, scrambling back up with bruised dignity.

"How else am I supposed to keep you in bed?" he returned, viciously curling his claws into Roy's stomach. He dodged the swat that followed easily. "Now shut up and be a good boy-"

"Oh, that's it," Roy decided, throwing the blanket over Ed's head for him to burrow out of. The bed shifted ominously as Roy swung his legs over the side, testing them before deciding to stand.

Ed grumbled and growled his way out long after Roy had left the room. He curled up in the warm dent Roy had left, sullenly deciding that the bastard wouldn't be able to go back to bed at all, if he wanted to be up so badly. Wanting to enjoy Roy's scent still lingering on the sheets had nothing to do with it.

And when Al came in and carried him out to nap in the sunlight, being with everyone as they talked and laughed and whiled away the day had nothing to do with staying there, either. Even when the dastardly sunbeam decided it would only warm Roy's lap, forcing him to curl up there.

Nothing to do with it at all.

Ed smiled as he dreamed.


End file.
